


The Dream

by CuriousBones



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural (TV)
Genre: Crying, F/M, Fluff, Reader has a sad dream, Sad, insecure reader, reader confesses insecurities to sam, reader likes dean but he doesn't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousBones/pseuds/CuriousBones
Summary: You have feelings for Dean, but he doesn't know and doesn't seem to feel the same way. One night, a slightly (not so slightly) drunk you confesses all your feelings of insecurities to Sam, who is heartbroken to see how pained you truly are.





	

You and the boys were at a honkey tonk bar in Lebanon after a particularly successful hunt, as per usual. And as per usual, you finished your drink first, got up to get another round, and when you returned with the three beers, Dean Winchester was in the arms of a beautiful, busty girl whose name he probably didn't even remember. 

This girl was hands down a ten, with long, chestnut hair that fell in loose waves over her shoulders, bright blue eyes framed with long dark lashes and a tiny waist with legs for days. Dean brushed her hair out of her eyes, her dark hair contrasting beautifully with her smooth, olive toned skin. You felt a surge of envy flood your chest at the sight, and suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. 

You set down the drinks, sitting beside Sam as you took a long chug before setting down the now half-empty bottle. Dean pried his eyes away from the busty bombshell sitting in his lap. "Y/N, this is, uh-"

"Haylee," the girl replied, looking you up and down, then extending a freshly manicured hand over the table. You were taken aback for a moment, before briefly shaking her hand, then her slender, red-polished fingers slid back to their home, wrapped around Dean's forearm. She forced a polite smile now that she evidently believed you were not a threat, and turned back to her martini. You had to hold back a scoff as you spotted the three olives swirling in the drink. Yeah, even olive-breath over here was going to get more action than you tonight. 

You squirmed uncomfortably in the tense atmosphere, before sliding out of the booth. "I'm pretty tired, I think I'm gonna head back home," you excused yourself, leaving before anyone could object. 

You started walking back to the bunker, glad it was mid-spring and not winter. It wasn't an excruciatingly long way back; you could handle it, and you wanted to leave the Impala for Dean and Miss Congeniality to take home. 

When you arrived, you closed the door behind you before bursting into tears. Of course, you thought. Of course, of course, of course. Why did you think tonight would be any different. Dean was always going to have some busty bombshell hanging off of him, and you would always be left feeling like half the person you were at the start of the night. You weren't skinny like them. You weren't pretty like them. You weren't charismatic or confident like them. You would never be like them. You tried to stop the tears as you hurried to your room, changing into your pj's, brushing your teeth and climbing into bed. You had nearly cried yourself to sleep when a door knocked. 

You sniffled, wiping away the trails of tears and slightly hiding under your covers. "Who is it?" You prayed your voice didn't sound shaky. 

"Uh, it's Sam," you heard a reply from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

You sighed. "Sure," you called out. The door cracked open and Sam peeked through. He looked around your room. 

"I always feel like you're getting ready to move when I come into your room," he muttered. "There's barely anything here. Where are your clothes?"

"In my dresser." You pointed to the corner of your room. Thank God the lights were off. When you cried, your face became redder than a tomato. 

"Oh," Sam said softly. He sat on the end of your bed. "You okay?" You nodded. "Really?" You nodded again. He sighed. "You know, I can tell when you're lying, even in the dark. Come on, Y/N. It's him, isn't it? You think I don't see? It's blatantly obvious." You sat up straight, horror in your eyes. "Not to him, though! Dean doesn't notice anything. Your secret's still safe," Sam continued quickly. 

"You can't say anything, Sam. Not a word. To anyone. Ever." Your face and tone were dead serious. You felt the buzz from that night's alcohol consumption loosen your tongue beyond control. "If he found out…" You put your head in your hands. "God, it would be a disaster. The whole dynamic of our group would be ruined. I'd have to leave and- oh God, Sam, I can't leave!" Panic began to rise in your chest. "You're all I have… if I had to leave, I would have nothing, I-I-" Sam put a soothing hand on your arm. 

"I won't tell. I swear," he said solemnly. He made a lip locking gesture before throwing away the imaginary key. "Y/N, we'd never ask you to leave. Ever. How could that even be a thought in your mind?"

You shrugged. The words began spilling out before you could stop them. "I don't know. I guess it's always felt like this was just temporary; that eventually you and Dean would just grow tired of me and ask me to leave."

"Is that why you never really settled into your room?" Sam asked quietly. You remained silent, and his eyes softened. "Oh, Y/N… this was never temporary. We love you; you're our family. When we asked you to move in, we meant for good. I can't believe you could ever even think anything else."

You avoided his eyes. "I don't know. I guess I've always been like that." You hesitated before continuing. "Have you ever thought about how, if there was ever an emergency, like a fire or something, would your face be the first to pop into someone's head when thinking about who to save?"

Sam shook his head hesitantly, then gestured for you to continue. "I do. I do all the time. And the thing that sucks, is every time I do, I can never say yes to that question. My whole life I've thought of that, and I've never really been able to picture myself being first in someone's priorities. Like, I think of my parents; they'd choose each other in a heartbeat. It's not their fault, it's just instinct. My brother would think of his wife. My friends all had other friends- I guess that was back when I had friends. And you and Dean? You'd choose each other. No doubt about it. It's nothing personal. It's just your basic instinct." You tried to give Sam a smile, but it faltered miserably. "I mean, think about it. Be real. If there was a gun to his head, and he could only choose one person to save, who do you think Dean would choose? Who would you choose? You guys would choose each other in a heartbeat. And I understand that. It's okay." Only when you felt the tears fall into your lap did you realize you were crying. You wiped your cheeks haphazardly. 

"Y/N…" Sam was at a loss for words. You shrugged it off. 

"Can we just… lay down, please?" Sam nodded, and he got under the covers with you, laying against the pillows as you rested your head on his broad chest. It was silent for a moment, before you spoke again. 

"I keep having this dream… I'm at my childhood home. With friends and family. The whole shebang. And, there's a fire. The house is burning, and everyone's rushing out of the house, all making sure they have that one person who first popped into their head with them. Everyone's out and to safety when they realize… someone's missing. But they can't figure out who. They all search for that person they thought of first, and they all have that number one priority with them. But still, someone's missing. Only when my parents finally do a head count for me and my brother, do they realize I'm nowhere to be found. Then they realize: I'm still in the house. But now the doorways and windows have been engulfed in flames, and me? I'm trapped inside under a fallen rafter, screaming for help, but no one can hear me. They assume I'm already dead, but I'm still alive. I'm crying for someone, anyone, to save me, but no one comes. The house collapses on itself, on top of me. They're too late. I'm gone." 

You let the tears soak Sam's shirt, clutching it firmly as you silently sobbed in your drunken stupor. Sam was silent, thoughtfully and soothingly stroking your hair. Tears rolled down his own cheeks as he let your painful recurring dream soak in. 

How could someone as kind, as compassionate, as amazing as you feel so alone? He felt shame roll over his thoughts. Had he not done a good enough job showing you how much he cared for you? Had he not appreciated you? Loved you, the way he should have?

He shook his head. No more. He had to show you that you were wrong. His brother was a fool not to see how incredible you truly were. He had to show you that you were loved, appreciated, wanted. He had to, and he was going to. 

He would show you how much you mattered. Even if it took him till his dying breath. He would love you. 

~End~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I know it's kind of heavy, but I needed to vent and the only way that made me feel better was when it ended with a cuddlefest with Sammy!
> 
> Always keep smiling, my lovelies :)
> 
> -CuriousBones


End file.
